Happily Ever After
by Lost Flame
Summary: Ryuki verse: Why is it assumed that everyone's lives would have been better off if the Rider games had never existed? Does such an 'happily ever after' really exist? I doubt it. This is my response to the final 5 minutes of Ep 50. Warning: character death


Ryuki is probably my favourite story line in the Kamen Rider series(or at very least in my Top 3) that I have seen so far (all of Heisei though virtually none of Showa) but I was a little disappointed in the final few minutes of episode 50. The assumption that everyone would have been happier if the Rider games were never started seems unrealistic, considering the growth we saw is many of the characters as a result of the battles they had to face. I felt that an ending like that simply cheapened the personal development and acheivements made by everyone during the series. In response to the overly optimistic canon ending my mind instantly did the opposite and constructed a different ending, though maintaining Yui and Shiro's reset of the world. This one is probably overly pessimistic but I still feel it is more realistic than the overly happy conclusion the series finishes with. The story takes place after the series ends (though how much time has past differs between characters).

I apologise in advance for my grammar. I am aware that it is utterly rubbish and while I tried to proofread the story I'm sure there are still mistakes to be found. So to quote the genius Catherine Tate: Am I bovvered? But I ain't even bovvered though. Is my face bovvered? No, cus I ain't even bovvered though.

If you understand that, you are brilliant and I love you. If not, go look her up on YouTube because she is quite clever. Well, actually, she often seems about as daft as they come but she truly is hilarious.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Miyuki Tezuka<strong>_

Tezuka ran as fast as he could down the street. The images of what he had just seen playing on repeat in his head. 'Yuichi' his mind was screaming while he begged his legs to move quicker. Tokyo was a big city; big enough to easily never meet the same person twice. So how was it that in less than a year after their first encounter, Tezuka has a vision of Yuichi jumping out of the way of a bike and into a man with ice-cold eyes? Tezuka tries to remember the man's names, thinks that after what he did to ruin Yuichi's life he should know the bastard's name, but for some reason he can't think of it.

Without even closing his eyes he could clearly see his friend's eyes grow wide as recognition sets in; the 'excuse me' he had been about to say dying before he had uttered a sound. The bastard had Yuichi shirt in a tight grip and Tezuka could see his lips move; however, whatever he said was lost to Tezuka, who watched everything through his audio-free vision. All he knew was whatever it was that had been said caused the normally mild manner Yuichi to glare and throw the first punch. Tezuka felt his fist tighten as he saw the bastard dodge and begin to laugh, saying something else, which seemed only to further infuriate Yuichi.

Tezuka was honestly surprised when Yuichi's fist made contact with the asshole's cheek. The older man suddenly looked simultaneously irritated and pleased. The next thing he knew the maniac had produced a gun and, while he couldn't hear the sounds of it being fired, the look of shock and pain on Yuichi's face told him it had been. Tezuka prayed to whatever god would listen to let him be able to change this prediction. Even if he was never able to change another one, let him change this one.

He pressed the redial button on his phone while he turned the corner to cut through an alleyway. Again, Yuichi didn't answer and the phone rolled over to voice mail. Tezuka finally gave up and pocketed the phone, focusing instead on the steady sound of his shoes as they hit the sidewalk. There was no snow on the ground like their last encountered with this asshole. Currently it was fall; the weather had become chilly in the early morning and evenings but beautiful during the day. Yuichi and he even made plans to head out of Tokyo the following week to see the leaves change colour. 'This can't be happening,' he repeated to himself. They had finally started to get used to the fact that Yuichi would never play piano professionally again. They were happy. This couldn't be happening.

Tezuka heard the shot before he saw them. He heard a couple people scream and a few ran past him in their attempt to get away from the lunatic with a gun. He rounded the corner just in time to see Yuichi fall backward, the force of the chest shot spinning his body a little as he fell. Tezuka stood frozen for a second, his mind not believing what he saw. The bastard simply looked at his friend for a second and then at the gun.

"How dull," he man had the gull to say before he casually tossed the gun to the ground, turned and started walking away.

Without even realising he had moved, Tezuka suddenly found himself looking at the gun now in his hands; hands that were shaking as he looked down the sight at the man now a few yards away. For a second he thought he wouldn't be able to pull the trigger, but then the sight of Yuichi's body on the ground flashed in his mind and his forefinger squeezed; once, twice, three times in quick secession. The first one missed, hitting a pillar to the guy's right. The second one hit his shoulder and the third one his mid back before he had the chance to turn around.

The sound of the shots rang loud in Tezuka's head and he was surprised his hands wasn't trembling more than they were. The man in front of him had fallen to his knees but seemed to still be alive. He turned and glared at Tezuka, his eyes alive with murderous intent, despite the bullet wounds in his shoulder and torso.

For some reason, Tezuka didn't feel as scared as he thought he should. Rather, after glancing back to take another look at his best friend, who lay still with an ever-growing patch of red on his chest and sightless eyes, he walked up to stand just beyond the man's reach. The man had the nerve to smile and it was the last thing he did. Without another moment's hesitation Tezuka fired five more shots into the bastard, squeezed his finger until the gun admitted a hollow clicking sound, indicating the barrel had emptied.

That hollow sound seemed to break whatever spell Tezuka was under. He immediately dropped the gun and raced to Yuichi's side, ignoring the group of people that had gathered around to stare at him in fear and disgust. Tezuka was still clutching Yuichi's body when the police arrived some time later. He fought against the hands that tried to take his friend from him but eventually had to surrender to the rough hands that enclosed his wrists in metal and guided him into the back seat of a car. He didn't fight during the trial that followed, simply recited the truth over and over again when asked.

The judge ruled that his shooting the man in the back, and then emptying the magazine into him, showed force that far exceeded that which was required for self-defence. In the end, he was sentenced to 10 years in prison for manslaughter but never once did he regret his actions. When interviewed by a journalist from a company named ORE Journal all he said was that, "Fate can never be changed." While this seemed to confuse the young man, Tezuka didn't try to elaborate. In fact, that as the last time he spoke.

Tezuka died two years into his sentence from pneumonia.

_**Satoru Tojo**_

Tojo sat in his one room apartment looking out at the clear blue sky and gentle breeze. It was his 83rd birthday and just like the year before and the year before that he was spending it alone with his books and awards. He glared at the closest one before picking it up and throwing it across the room.

As a kid, he had been small and poor at sports, which seemed to make him a favourite among the bullies. Since he had always been smart compared to his classmates, he thought he would become their friend if he supplied them with homework answers. He found that his intellect provided just another thing for them to jeer at instead. The result was that he hid away from the world for a number of years, completing much of his education at night school with students like him, most recluses whose social skills were as underdeveloped at his own.

Despite his recluse nature, his desire to be a part of the popular crowd never wavered. From his room he would watch guys and girls laughing and having fun as they pass by and everyday he would vow that one day that would be him. Since he was not particularly good at sports and had little confidence in his appearance, he figured that the best way to make this dream happen was though his studies. He graduated at the top of his class from his non-conventional high school and scored high enough on his entrance exams to get into Seimei University. The university itself was not overly famous but by studying at Seimei University, he would be able to learn under a number of highly respected researchers, including Professor Hideyuki Kagawa.

Tojo was successful in university and proved to be a decent researcher, though he had trouble getting along with the other students in his research lab. He figured it was because they felt intimidated by his intellect and, therefore, never tried too hard befriending them. People would eventually realise how brilliant he was and beg to be his friend. He would become the lead researcher on a major project and their breakthrough would make him a hero. If that happened, everyone would have to like him, right?

Despite graduating near the top of his class from university, Tojo was not as successful in life. His lack of human relation skills lost him quite a few research positions and prevented him from ever becoming the project leader. Even though he managed to contribute heavily to a number of minor project, and even one or two major breakthroughs, he found that at the end of the day he still returned home alone. While he was usually invited out the first week or two of a new research position, the invitations always seemed to stop after that. Still he could not help but notice that the others continued to leave the office together, talking about dinner or drinks, long after his invitation to join had ceased.

His dream of being a hero seemed to continue to slip through his fingers as the years slipped by. Now he was retired and his goal at becoming a hero seemed impossible. Outside his window he watched as a group of salary men on their lunch break passed by and he found himself hating them. His desire to be loved by others had corroded over the years into a hate for others. What was so great about them anyway? He was smarter; he was better; it wasn't fair.

_**Shuichi Kitaoka**_

The attorney stumbled into the room in his house that had been set aside as his office and immediately went to lie on the couch. He thought back to the previous day when the doctor showed him the latest MRI scans. There were now over a half dozen small white dots of various sizes scattered about the two dimensional image of his torso. The biggest one, sitting as it always had, on his spinal cord only millimetres away from the brain stem. By the time they had found it, it had already wound itself enough around the spiral cord that the doctor told him immediately that an operation was unrealistic.

Chemotherapy was the only thing they could offer to the lawyer. Even then, the doctor admitted that in cases like his, while radiation had been shown to prevent the appearance of new tumours, it had not shown any meaningful reduction in existing tumour or overall survival rate. When Kitaoka had asked for the doctor's recommendation, she had smiled sadly at him as she recommended he forgo the chemotherapy, which she said would only worsen the quality of his remaining life.

He had ended up agreeing with her; preferring to pass on the constant nausea and hair loss. That had been a little over a year ago and where was he now? Maybe a month left, if he's lucky? How in the world could that constitute being lucky? He hadn't considered himself lucky sense he first heard the words: malignant peripheral nerve sheath tumours. Now every time he stepped into the white walls of the hospital he is told that his remaining time has shortened and all he feels is scared and angry.

This wasn't supposed to happen to him. He was the "black to white" super lawyer. He had money; he had power; he had charisma. How can it be that now he was going to die?

As he closed his eyes, he could hear Gorou move around in the kitchen preparing dinner. He never hated Gorou for what was happening to him. It wasn't Gorou's fault; yet recently the mere sight of the other man, healthy and full of energy, made anger shoot through his body. It seemed to get worse as death crept ever closer. Kitaoka could not help but think that if he had not been working on Gorou's case they would have found the tumour back when surgery was still an option.

A rational part of Kitaoka's brain knew that, realistically, was not likely. Sadly, fear and anger seemed intent on overriding that rationality and, in order to prevent himself from taking all of his emotions out on the younger man, Kitaoka had started to avoid him. Well, as much for two people who lived in the same house could possibly avoid each other. Part of Kitaoka knew that his refusal to meet Gorou's eyes made the whole situation harder for the younger man, and an even sicker part of him was happy about that fact, but Kitaoka still could not bring himself to look at the other man and smile. Not as he once had at least.

Maybe it would have been different if there was still hope that he could be saved. In the beginning he had held out hope that his condition would change, a new experimental treatment would come out, or even that he would wake up from this terrible nightmare. Now with less than a month less, hope had died and resentment was setting in.

He had heard stories of people coming to terms with their death sentences and dying without regret. As he lay there, he did not see how that was even possible. He still had stuff he wanted to do, places he wanted to go and ridiculously expensive food he wanted to eat. He was still young; how could he possibly be satisfied when he was dying at 30 years old?

_**Kido Shinji**_

It was nearly nine in the evening as Kido walked down the pavement to his flat. He stretched, feeling tired after what had proved to be an exhausting week. It wasn't even the data collecting that he found so tiring. Rather, it was the continuously depressing news he found himself reporting. He casually wondered what had happened to the age of golden crawfish and hairy fogs. Even if it had all been a lie, wasn't it better than reporting on the hanging of a 29 year old boy.

Kido remembered when the sentence had first been handed to the boy, Shibahara Jun, at that time only 22 years old and barely out of university. He had been shocked that Reiko and his investigation of mysterious ghosts sending boys to the hospital had evolved to helping the cops to catch the self-proclaimed 'mastermind' behind nearly 50 deaths all across the city. Even the idea of such a horrid game of the sort Shibahara had developed made Kido cringe.

When he had first been arrested and Kitaoka Shuichi was named as his lawyer, everyone assumed that he would end up walking. However, the sudden death of his attorney near the beginning of the trail had also been the death of Shibahara's defence. The lawyer that replaced Kitaoka wasn't incompetent but had been nowhere near as skilled as his predecessor had in the art of making the guilty look like saints. While Shibahara had never killed anyone himself the judge took into account his manipulation and lack of remorse when he found the boy guilty of 53 separate counts of inciting violence and accessory to murder.

Yesterday, seven years after the initial sentencing and five months after his last appeal fell through, the boy was finally hung. He had overheard other people say 'good riddance' to the death of the egotistical inventor of the game that called for humans to kill each other. While Kido didn't think he could ever forgive someone for doing such a horrible thing, he couldn't help but think that there had already been enough death. Why did someone else also have to die?

Whatever. At one time, he may have argued against all of this but now he was just tired. It seemed everyday now there was some new crime or someone guilty getting off on technicalities. He laughed when he thought of how idealistic he had been eight years ago when he had started working as a reporter's apprentice. He had thought the world was wonderful and people were all good. Now he wasn't so sure. His solution was just not to think about it. It seemed to have worked for him so far. As long as he didn't think about all the bad things that happened, he could charge forward with a smile.

"Mommy. Mommy. Look!" the voice of a young girl called Kido's attention to his right. A girl no older than five was pointing up at the sky and even in the dim lighting Kido could see the bright smile on her face. Following the girl's finger the young reporter saw the dim light of a star. He had to smile himself. Living in Tokyo stars were a rare but welcomed sight. He knew he didn't have to go too far outside the big city to see a sky full of the distant jewels but it had been years since he had bothered.

"Wow! Look at that." The girl's mother replied as she too turned to look at the lone star above them. "Don't forget to make a wish Keiko."

Kido saw the girl close her eyes, smiling as she made her wish upon the first star of the night. Kido closed his eyes too, ready to do the same, when he realised he had no idea what to wish for. What did he want? Nothing really. His only dream had ever been to become a journalist and he had managed to achieve that, though he knew that he would never be as talented as Reiko was. Overall, he was content he supposed. Perhaps he was not exactly happy but he was not sad either. That was enough, wasn't it?

Sometimes he would meet people though. They were nothing but strangers but for some reason when he looked at them he had a feeling like he was part something more. As if in another time, they had been friends and he has been more than he was now. It happened at the strangest of times: a fortune teller he had done a piece on who had been convicted of shooting a man, a guy who nearly ran him over on a bike, a lawyer he had interviewed for an article or a guy he had seen a couple times at a cafe near his flat. The feeling was too difficult and fleeting to describe so he had never mentioned it to any of these people but he could never forget any of them for some reason. Even today, if he concentrated, he could see their faces. He had seen some of them a number of times years ago but slowly these brief meeting and pavement pacing decreased to the point that he realised that it had been a couple of years since the last encounter. He missed them. It was silly, he knew; he didn't even know any of their names (with the exception of the lawyer and the fortuneteller) but just by seeing them he felt more complete somehow.

There he goes again, thinking too much. With another look up at the small twinkling light, he resumed his walk back home.

_**Ren Akiyama**_

When Eri told Ren that she was pregnant, Ren thought that he would never be sad again. He was going to be a father. He picked up his fiancée and twirled her through the air as she giggled in joy. Eri had stuck with Ren for years now despite his hot temper and impulsive nature. She had slowly gotten him out of the world of fights and violence, though it had taken years. He no longer frequented any of his old hangouts and tried his hardest to avoid old associates. He had never been so happy before, he had the women he loved and soon would have a child as well.

Their joys were short-lived, however, as three months after receiving the joyful news, Ren received a call one evening from Saint Central Hospital saying that Eri had been admitted but refusing to give any details as to why. His head was racing as his bike sped down the road, waiving through the taxis full businessmen heading home from dinner meeting with clients and co-workers where they had all consumed too much alcohol. Safety was sacrificed in favour of speed but Ren paid it little mind, thinking only of Eri and their unborn child.

Whatever reasons Ren's mind had conjured up, he was not prepared for the doctor to tell him that his fiancée had been attacked, raped. The fair maiden he had promised to protect, now looked so broken, tears stained cheeks and trembling hands. He wondered if it was a good thing that the medical system relayed all pertinent info to the family so that they could break the news to the patient. He knew that the information the doctor had shared with him in the medical man's office would be devastating for Eri to hear. However, was it actually going to be any easier hearing it from him? How did you tell a woman that the nurses could no longer find any trace of the child and suspected a miscarriage? The news had been distressing for him to hear; how was he supposed to explain it to another?

Eri's reaction had been as expected, going through the denial, anger, and depression steps of grief in turn. The majority of the time Eri refused to look at or talk to Ren. She would either yell at him that it was his fault for not being there (a reaction the doctors assure him is natural for a women in Eri's position) or break down and cry, begging him to leave because she couldn't look at him without thinking of their unborn child.

However, through all of it Ren never left her, going nowhere other than to work or making trips to the shop when Eri was asleep or she needed some time to herself. It was after one of her crying episode when Ren had gone out to pick up some food that he ran into Koki. The other man was shorter than Ren, with more limbs than muscle, and had been the closest thing Ren had to a friend during his fighting day but he hadn't seen or heard from him since he had gotten out of that scene. Still, he recognised the voice when it called his name and immediately recognised the face when he turned around. Koki told him that he had overheard Aizawa bragging about what he had done to 'that bastard Akiyama's woman' and how they had should treat deserters a lesson. Ren saw red.

The next couple of hours were a blur that found Ren face to face with Aizawa, a man with at least 10 kg on Ren in terms of muscle and a reputation for fighting to win rather than fighting fair. Ren had fought him before and won because he could out think the other fighter and was able to remain calm and focused turning the fight. This time Ren was running on anger and adrenaline, his brain in chaos, and all he wanted to do was kill the taller man.

All it took was one well-placed hit to the back of Ren's head with a pipe iron tossed to him by one of his friends for the dark knight to fall. If not for a Good Samaritan calling an ambulance some time later, the doctors said he would have died. Instead, Ren was left in a coma. Moreover, while the doctors assured Eri that his vitals were stable, they didn't know when or if the man would awaken.

Eri was properly vigil in the beginning; whenever she wasn't at work or asleep she could be found sitting by Ren's side, talking to him or reading a book as she patiently waited for him to wake up. Nevertheless, it was hard, seeing Ren, because it always reminded her of the things that had happened and all that had been lost. They doctors had told her that there was a chance of brain damage but that they couldn't be certain until Ren woke. Each day brought Eri new doubts that they could overcome this and go back to the way things were.

Days turned into weeks, which in turn became months. Eri still visited but her trips became every other day and then once a week. By the time the one year anniversary rolled around, Eri's visits had become sporadic and fell under the 'when I have time' category, something that seemed to be in short demand. She had found employment at a lab under a great, though demanding, researcher, and much of her spare time was sent with a colleague named Tomohiko, with whom she had been on a couple of dates. He was nothing like Ren, quieter – more of a bookworm than a fighter – but he made her laugh and she cared for him all the same.

It was a year after their first date that Tomohiko proposed and Eri said yes. The next eight months were even busier than normal with the added workload of wedding preparations. It was four months before the third anniversary that Eri visited Ren for the last time. She cried at his bedside as she told him of her wedding the next day, apologised for falling in love with another man, and begged him to understand that she just couldn't wait forever. She left him after that visit with a kiss on the forehead.

Ren passed away the next night, but Eri wouldn't hear about it until follow week when she returned from her honeymoon in Hawaii. She would cry and hold Tomohiko close as she grieved. Still, life moves on and memories of her life with her husband and then children replaced those of her once fiancée. For while she would never completely forget about the man she had once loved, as time passed she would forget the sound of his voice, the way he kissed and what they talked about together. Ren would slowly fade into a fond memory and a sad smile, thought about occasionally when she stood on the beach or heard the sound of a motorbike. The only evidence he had been there was a handful of photographs and three small interlocking bands of metal hidden in a small box, tucked into the back of a bottom dresser draw.

* * *

><p>Thank you so much for reading and I hope you liked it. I know Ryuki is not one of the more well known series but I strongly recommend it.<p>

Last time I said that I had two more Kamen Rider fanfics coming up. I still plan to post them, if I can ever find them again. I always do first drafts on paper and somewhere in the chaos of broken computers, university exams and moving the papers have been misplaced. I promise to look for them again soon or simply start over should they be deemed irretrievable.

As always, reviews are appreciated but hardly manditory.


End file.
